I always wanted –
to know what happened in the room behind the doors? 
I heard you reaching for the crisp ironed shirt I kept on the table. 
You came out crackling with a blasted temper and walked out. With no words.     
Your message at the window whimpers like a dog abandoned by its owner, 
I am tired of Summer. My days are wasted. Once again.  
But it does not tell me, still, what happened in the room behind the doors?    
Now I sleep in your shirt all alone. The night comes in gently bringing a visitor, 
who I met in the last summer. Silence with a baggage. When I undid it,

I found mothballs. Of memories.

I always wanted –
to see me frozen on a lonely cement bench
weighed down by the silence falling around, 
enclosed by bushes and trees fading into a thin layer of dusk    
spreading a mild fragrance that we do not get at the busy counters
of a crowded shopping mall, where I walk around, with my hands  
hidden in pockets, to realise how lonely I am in this world, waiting for    
for someone to pass by, who, my eyes would request to capture me talking 
to the bench, behind us the mist-capped mountains stand lost in my thoughts.

The photo-frame. Still empty. 

I always wanted –
to watch it: the early morning march on the terrace  
My old mother walking with an effort and the light steps of our pet dog trailing behind her. 
I rustle, once again, in my bed soft and warm.

I always wanted –
to see the man who shut the door in my face,
leaving me in broken pieces of our conversations laying around, 
shivering as a cold breeze touched their skins.

Or, for a split second, have they seen him at the window?

Did I disappoint you? Or leave a bad taste in your mouth?
You act like you never had love,And you want me to go without
Well it’s ….Too late, Tonight
To drag the past out into the light
We’re one, but we’re not the same
We get to Carry each other

So, I, an {intrinsi-extrinsically} progressive-minded woman, at times, experience “Separation” and “Anxiety”. People, I come across and on who I am willing to invest my precious little head, flirtatious laughter and delectable conversations, tend to become part of “me”. This is significantly distinct from “being EMOTIONALLY DEPENDENT”. This is what I term “being CODEPENDENT”.

***Little head is busy with her career moves : Technology Brand Planning ? FMCG Brand Planning ? Apparel Retailing ? or stay back at home for a while & get married & be a sweet, gentle homemaker ? that assertive social acitivist to fight for children, trees and stressed environment ? 

Little lazy head has to finish her Homework : Haneke’s “Funny Games” review, Bergman’s “Wild Strawberries” and an epicurean delight “Babette’s Feast”